It forgot to stop raining today. There were a few possible plans for the day, none of which included the rain. Still, after our usual morning of writing, we decided to take Max for a spin. After studying the map, Mirinda chose a place called Klockhammar to visit.
The name of the place comes from the fact that iron was forged there in the 17th century. Apparently it was not allowed in a certain area so another was picked, and it became Klockhammar. There was more than one hammer forge. It must have been quite loud.
Mind you, they stopped iron production a very long time ago and built a mill instead.
The other thing I’ve discovered about Klockhammar is the fact that the Örebro Punkfest was to be held there. It was due to take place this coming weekend but, due to the plague, it has been cancelled. Depending on the bands, it would probably have been as loud as the hammer forges.
So, we set off for Klockhammar.
At the picturesque collection of houses that is Pershyttan, and just as it plunged into the forest, the road decided to stop being sealed. This is possibly not a problem if either you are driving a four-wheel drive or the weather has been dry but, a mini in wet conditions, tends to not hold the road as well as one might prefer.
Mirinda tensed up as the back end of Max started to feel a bit slippy. She also slowed down. A lot. In fact, had we been going any slower we’d have been in reverse.
After what felt like 150 miles, she asked how much further we had to go and where was the closest sealed road. I told her we still had further to go than we’d already gone and that the nearest sealed road was back the way we’d come. We drove a bit further, her knuckles white as she tried to strangle the steering wheel.
My biggest fear was a tractor appearing round the next corner and forcing us off the road.
Finally, Mirinda decided to turn round and give up all hope of visiting Klockhammar.
A handy forest trail provided enough width to turn, and we started retracing our tracks, trying to avoid the slippiest parts of the road. Then a car appeared behind us. This achieved what I thought couldn’t be possible. It made Mirinda even more tense.
Along this poor excuse for a road, there were two short sealed sections over two small bridges. We were approaching one, and I suggested that Mirinda should pull over slightly and allow the person behind us to pass. My thinking was we could mimic his driving, given he was probably a local. It was also probably a good idea to let him get going as he’d be stuck behind us for at least a day.
He swept passed us, and we followed in his slip stream.
He quickly disappeared from view, and we were once more left on our own, vaguely aware of the back of the car not remaining wholly under control.
Eventually, our wheels hit the sealed road on the edge of Pershyttan, and we looked for somewhere to stop in order to unpeel Mirinda’s hands from the steering wheel. Unlikely as it seems, we wound up in the car park at Ica where Mirinda had a chance to get out of the car and walk around a bit. In the rain. The dogs were a bit confused.
It was soon decided that I’d go and buy salmon for tea, and we’d only go somewhere if the weather improved.
The weather didn’t improve so, other than Mirinda taking the girls for a walk late on, we stayed at the house.
Tomorrow we leave for Sunne and, if the sunset was anything to go by, the weather should be a shepherd’s delight.
While there’s a couple of things we won’t miss, we’ve both decided we’d like to live in Nora. Not Klockhammar and certainly not in the house where we are. But Nora? Yes, definitely.